hello, darling! I’m Stella
I am a widow. Perhaps you are too.
(pssst…you don’t need to be a widow to belong here.)
Me and my soul dog, Chili Pepper Lane
A glimpse of my grief story
In 2014, my husband died from cancer. We were together for 11 years of fully packed life and love, and even though he had been sick for six years, I was not expecting to be a widow in my 40s.
His death was the beginning of an exploration of all things related to love and loss, life and death, grief and, well, whatever the heck comes after. It has been a rich and painful process, and true to my nature, I have been mining the gold along the way.
While the loss of my husband reshaped everything, it wasn’t my first encounter with grief — nor would it be my last. I’ve experienced profound loss in many forms and have also walked alongside loved ones through death, including MAiD.
I share this because grief is rarely singular — and because you don’t have to be a widow for your loss to belong here.
Being a young-ish widow, no one in my orbit had experienced partner loss. I didn’t have a compass or guide to chart my way out of the darkness, especially with my trauma and grief-brain. (Yes, that is a scientific thing. You temporarily lose access to your grief-fogged brain right at the same time a tidal wave of decisions are yours, and only yours, now to make. WTF?!)
I was beyond lost in the early days of grief, and wished I had a roadmap, or resources, or connection to kindred widows who have walked a similar path.
Instead, I found myself isolated and alone among my well-meaning friends. And while counselling sessions offered much-needed support, I still felt mostly unseen and unprepared for the ripple effects of secondary losses that were waiting ahead for me like a minefield — a minefield another widow could have helped me better navigate.
My life looked unrecognizable, like an earthquake had torn it apart. My identity, confidence, and sense of self had evaporated — losses I would later learn are common after partner loss.
I tried my best to shrug off this new label, “widow,” that kept being foisted upon me, thinking, “Surely they can’t mean me. I’m not what a widow looks like. Right?”
Darling Widow was born from my wish that no one else would have to navigate the death of their partner alone.
My heart aches when I remember thinking that the hardest part (different from the worst part) was the death of my husband — when, in truth, it was the road that lay ahead.
Because even in the worst days with cancer, we still had each other, and there was still hope. And while navigating grief was never going to be easy, it honestly didn’t have to be so hard, cost so much (on so many fronts), or feel so hopeless.
Grief is one of the loneliest experiences — but it isn’t meant to be carried alone.
It needs to be witnessed, and you deserve support as you find your way.
I’m here for you.
With love,
Stella
